#would you drop by the afterlife on your way back?

[milliesfishes]

꣑ৎ౨ৎ𝓢𝔀𝓪𝓷 𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰꣑ৎ౨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: death, blood pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: billy thinks you're gone forever author's note: :) hope this is alright. Had another vampire idea after doing some research Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

He needed to tear away. Tell himself the figure beneath the wrinkled white sheet was not you, but rather something void of your spirit, of everything that had ever made you special. But Billy couldn't help loving it. He'd loved every part of you.

The candle was a nub collapsing in on itself, dripping into the brass holder. Though the glow was faint, he could see the outline of your face beneath the thin fabric. His girl. His beautiful girl, even when death masked you.

The sickness had been rapid, claiming you quick. Billy had hardly left your bedside in the duration, his prayers taking a new form. He'd called the doctor into your small home and begged him to save you, but the man's hopes hadn't been high.

Still, Billy had nursed you, mopped your sweaty brow, pleaded with you to drink water and broth, held you when the fever caused you to cry out in the dark. Every time you opened your eyes and he saw the beautiful glimmer that told him you were still fighting, he became a little more convinced that it would all be okay. That in a month, he would look back at this as merely an incident and nothing more.

But in the early hours of the morning, your clammy hand clasped in his, you slipped from mortality, disappearing into the afterlife's pocket.

The doctor, grim-faced, had pronounced you lucky that the fingers of death hadn't wrapped around you sooner. Billy waited until he left to cry, tears like rain dripping down his cheeks.

Now you were laid out stiffly on a table, shrouded in white. He had made sure to tuck the sheet under your heels- you hated when your feet were cold. Billy slouched in a chair dragged from the kitchen, hand covering his mouth as he stared at what was left of you, one pale hand dipping from the table and clasped in his other. He'd been motionless for hours, mind traveling lengths and showing him the life he would never have with you. All the things he'd wanted to say, wanted to give you.

He saw imaginings of the children you would have had, of watching you grow older; a luxury he hadn't ever thought he would get. A roughened outlaw, any dreams he'd had of a normal life were forced to be shattered by his own hand. When he'd met you, he found himself putting them back together, with every smile, every time you said you loved him.

It was the only music he wanted to hear, and its artist had been silence.

Fish circled his ankles, letting out a tiny questioning meow. Wordlessly, Billy dropped his free hand to his back, stroking his dark silky fur. Your beloved pet had been in a state of distress for hours now, and Billy felt a pang of guilt for not paying more attention to him.

He wondered if you were watching right now and immediately hoped you weren't. If you were free from this life, you deserved heaven, not long years being forced to view his misery. He knew he would wear it without shame. You were the greatest love he ever knew, and now he'd lost it. The pieces of his heart had trailed behind him like bread crumbs as he carried your limp body from the bedroom to the table, laying you out.

Recalling the death of his mother and brother, Billy knew about viewings and customs. But he knew that though you had been kind to all you met in your life, his tarnished name had sullied yours as well. Nobody would come to pay respects to the lover of a former outlaw. As much as he hated his reputation's muddied tendencies, he was grateful for it now. There wasn't any way he could have accepted condolences or politely thanked anybody for coming now.

Bowing his head, Billy shifted in his chair. There wasn't any way in hell he was leaving your side until the burial. He wasn't sure if he'd even be able to sleep without you pressed into his side, ear over his heart. Fish leapt from the ground onto his lap, making himself comfortable, a regular practice for the cat. Billy swore his whiskers were drooping, a forlorn look in the little animal's eyes.

Settling one hand on the cat's side, Billy breathed in, shutting his eyes. Maybe when the morning came he'd find it a little easier to start saying goodbye.

The last thought he had before falling asleep was one of truth that pierced the jagged remains of his heart. He would never say goodbye. Not truly.

Fish was meowing. Billy grunted, slowly lifting his head upright. His neck was aching from the angle it'd lulled into somewhere in the night, and he gritted his teeth as the soreness pounded. Early sunshine was poking through the curtains and knocking at his eyelids.

The warmth of the cat in his lap was absent, and he figured the little animal was hungry. He tried to remember if there was any chicken left from when he'd canned it last. Stretching out his legs, Billy yawned, rolling a shoulder back. Instinctively, he flexed his fingers, still feeling the weight of your hand in his.

Your cold hand.

It all came rushing back like the current of a river out to drown him. Billy took in a breath through his nose, trying to suppress it for now. Later. He could deal with that later. Right now, the cat was hungry.

Wearily, he cracked one eye open, the fuzzy outline of the world greeting him. The house was still fairly shadowy, although lighter than last night. Fish darted past his legs, and he hummed, rubbing an eye with his free hand. "Alright...alright, I'm comin'."

Instinctively, he turned to look at you. Maybe it was a habit he wouldn't ever shake, always checking first to make sure you were well.

No matter the reason, he was shocked to see you sitting up, staring right back at him.

Panic shot through Billy's body, and he stood so rapidly that the chair was knocked backwards. Chest heaving, he searched the length of you, positive he was dreaming.

The sheet was bunched around your waist, a corner flung away to reveal part of your thigh. You were still in the nightdress you had passed in, one shoulder bare where the strap had fallen down. Hair loose, your skin was as pale and cold as it had been yesterday. In fact, most everything about you looked the same.

It was your eyes that had changed, now an icy lightened blue that reminded him of death. You blinked at him like a doll, and he was terrified by the entire scene. Were you a spirit? A ghost he'd conjured from the throes of his own grief?

"Baby..." The breathy word fell from his lips like a prayer, and his teeth nearly chattered when he saw the old glimmer flash across your irises.

Your voice was raspy. "Billy."

It hit him right then that this was real. You were here, somehow conscious and sentient. A ragged cry tore from him, and he surged forward, bringing you into his chest and squeezing you tight. Your arms were solid around his back, and the detail of it bloomed an overload of relief in his chest.

"How're you...what're you...?" Every question went unfinished as he pressed his lips to your hair over and over again, mind racing.

You fisted his shirt, face buried in his chest. "I don't know. I don't know." He pulled back, and you looked as though you would cry. "All I know is that it was so dark...and I woke up and Fish was on the table next to me."

Cupping your cool cheeks in his big hands, Billy smiled in disbelief, looking over you again. "You're here...you're-" You smiled, lips parting, and he froze, eyes glued to your teeth. It seemed your eyes weren't the only thing death had changed.

The pieces began to connect.

Smile dropping, his mind caught on a certain part of what you'd said, a flood of memory washing over him. The tales his mother used to tell filled in blanks tentatively, and his heart pounded. No. It was impossible. That sort of thing wasn't real.

But you had been dead hours ago.

"Did you say Fish was beside you?" His voice was a whisper.

"Here." Kathleen deposited the kitten that had snuck in Billy's hands and returned to her task, stripping the petals of lavender from the green stem. It had been a flurry of adults running in and out of the house all morning, tending to the icy figure of his aunt Rosalie in the next room.

"Take her outside," his mother commanded gently, pinching another stalk of lavender. "Isn't good to have an animal around a body. If they walk over it they'll turn a person to something like Abhartach."

A vampire.

Now Billy's heart was beating double time, and he looked back at you, everything clicking. His mind raced- was there anything to do? Fish was purring and circling his legs once more, blissfully unaware of his actions.

You whimpered, a hand flying to your throat. "Billy...it hurts...I..." Opening and closing your mouth, fear struck your eyes like lightning. When you looked up at him helplessly, the conditions of your new form unknown to you, any modicum of doubt or hesitation he'd had disappeared. All he knew was that you needed help.

Admittedly, Billy had very limited knowledge, but of one thing he was sure. There was a singular substance you needed to make the pain stop. And you'd never had any. Protection blurred every protesting thought as he stood, one objective clear in his mind.

Securing an arm around your waist, he moved you slightly on the table, planting one of his legs firmly on the ground and putting the other on your opposite side. Gently, he pulled you in to rest against his chest, fingers rubbing your hip. When you began to protest, he murmured, "Shh...it's okay. 'm gonna help you feel better."

Lifting his free wrist to your mouth, he whispered, "Bite down on it." You began to turn in his arms, but he held you firm, sensing your confusion. "Trust me, angel. You'll feel better."

There was a moment in between when he wasn't sure you'd do it. He could see how odd of a request it was, especially when you weren't sure why. Slowly but surely, you closed your mouth around it, and the sensation of your fangs cutting through his skin was evident. Your body's instincts seemed to kick in, and you began to suck, relaxing into his body.

Billy held back any grimaces at the pain, trying to keep any worries at bay. He wasn't sure how much blood you would need, hell, he wasn't sure if you knew. But he'd be damned if you went hurting without something his body could just make more of.

Your hand grasped his wrist after a moment, teeth withdrawing and leaving two little dots like a constellation on his skin. Billy breathed in, grateful that your thirst had been satiated and that he'd been deemed worthy by some higher power to keep living. If he was meant to die, by all means he'd let you drain his body into nothing but skin and bones.

When you turned to look into his eyes again, any explanations died on his tongue. You knew. There was no discussion, though he could see guilt in your eyes. That was something for another time, when he'd tell you as many times as you needed that his blood was yours for the taking. Thumbing the crimson from the corner of your mouth, he gave you a little smile.

Without speaking, Billy found his footing and scooped you up into his arms, walking the few feet to the sofa and sitting there with you between his legs once more. This would be more comfortable for the long term. He knew you didn't need as much rest anymore, but that didn't mean he couldn't hold you.

Your eyes were trained on the wall, lips forming the names of numbers as you started from the first board and tried to count your way to the top. He watched you for a moment, feeling you tense when you kept losing track.

"Easy." He splayed the hand belonging to the wrist you'd bitten out, guiding your grasp to the palm. "Why don'tcha count these instead?"

You smiled sweetly up at him before your eyes fell to his fingers, mouthing as you counted over and over. One two three four five.

Satisfied, he held perfectly still, enjoying the feel of your icy skin against his. Fish leapt up beside you, nestling at Billy's feet. He'd have to give the cat extra chicken for the rest of his life now for what he'd done. Recalling how sad he'd looked sitting below your corpse, Billy wondered if he had known what he was doing. He couldn't help a smile at the thought.

For you were in Billy's arms again. You curled into his empty space, making him whole.

[thestrangesthell]

Afterlife Jobs and Civil Service

Seen a few theories and "plot hole" accusations flying around after Beetlejuice Beetlejuice and thought I'd add my own hypothesis on what the deal is with jobs in the afterlife.

This will contain spoilers for Beetlejuice Beetlejuice.

TW: This post will discuss suicide. Please only proceed if you are comfortable.

The short version: I think (for the most part) jobs are a choice and available to those who need to hang around due to unfinished business (even if they themselves don't know what that is). I think those who commit suicide do have to work for some time as it wasn't their time to die yet. They can't just board the soul train and move on to better plains. Instead, (and though rather sour in the mouth), they're met with the shock that it isn't over. This is Beetlejuice, after all. Death and life is hard.

Now, for the long version (and it really is long), read on!

Despite the fact I do personally think it's canon that those who commit suicide end up having to work (at least for a while) in the afterlife, we can't believe that purely because Otho said so. Firstly, the guy is living, pompous and has zero evidence for that statement. Secondly, he's not a credible source. He may have been "one of New York City's leading paranormal researchers until the bottom dropped out in '72," but his interest in anything can be boiled down to obsession with image and aesthetic more than a desire to get into the nitty gritty.

What we as the audience do see is people working in the afterlife that could have died by suicide.

There's the Road Kill man ("Thanks, I've been feeling a little flat!"), Juno (*who I will come back to) and most obviously, Miss Argentina. These people are working and likely (if not outright confirmed) died by suicide.

It's a weird thing to pick up on, but what about the skeleton workers?

Besides being a great visual gag, there's not really a clear indication of death by suicide here. We could, of course, suggest they died this way and have since been "worked to the bone" - as this is the Beetlejuice franchise after all, and lord knows pun-based humour is...well, pun-damental - but no other ghosts seem to have permanent alterations to their state. In the Beetlejuice universe, once you're dead, you're stuck that way. (Unless you get your soul sucked that is).

Well, that clears things up, right?

Maybe not.

For a long time, a lot of us in the fandom accepted the whole "in the afterlife they become civil servants" thing because, well, that was what we were told. But with the recent instalment of Beetlejuice Beetlejuice this is now dubious.

Why?

Betelgeuse himself.

Betelgeuse was largely assumed by many to have died by suicide. Various headcanons over the years include strangulation, hanging, poison, drowning, electrocuting himself - the list truly goes on. part of his charm is the mystery. But with the sequel, it is suggested that he died by poison from another. Delores.

Why is this an issue?

Well, if Betelgeuse didn't commit suicide, why was he Juno's assistant?

I have two theories for that.

Firstly, in line with this entire post - he died after Delores poisoned him and then chose to work up from the bottom to become Juno's assistant. He claims himself that his heart was pretty much blackened before he met Delores, so what's to stop him from wanting to take over in the afterlife after finding himself there ahead of his time? He probably feels robbed of life and hella opportunistic. It would support the theory of unfinished business and explain the random jobs we see him doing in Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. From Guide to working Immigration, man's got one hell of a resume.

Then there's my second theory, which muddies the waters quite a bit.

We didn't actually see him die after he was poisoned.

I'll let that fester for a bit...

Ready to move on?

Let's talk about *Juno!

Juno, my beloved.

Despite recent questions surrounding her cause of death, I do personally feel the cut on Juno's throat was self-imposed. The issue fans have with how deep the cut is can be answered fairly reasonable. This is more practical rather than an effort for believability. Beetlejuice is high camp and smoke pouring from the throat of a ghost only adds to its ridiculousness. Plus, it helps back up my theory that those who commit suicide are required to do some type of work in the afterlife to make up for their shortened time on earth.

The reason I believe this is that Juno seems to really hate her job - or at least hate the crap that comes with it. If she had chosen to be a caseworker, (or been given a job similar to what she did when living), we'd perhaps see her be a little more understanding to everything that was going on. Instead, she's burdened by her paperwork, sick of having to deal with issues from baby ghosts and their "routine hauntings," and the poor woman is constantly haunted by the knowledge that Betelgeuse is out there.

(While we don't know their history, we do know that Betelgeuse ended up with a bit of a liking for Bio-exorcisms. I don't think she believes him evil any more than she considers him a nuisance, so we can only assume he got caught up in trouble that threatened Juno's line of work, leading to him getting fired.)

The real reason I can suggest that jobs are largely a choice are the recent additions to the Beetlejuice universe. I'm talking about Richard, Wolf Jackson, the Shrinkers, the Janitor and all of Wolf Jackson's squad, (plus a handful of others). They all have jobs, with some having more legitimate jobs than others.

This is where my theory really comes into play.

I think all of the above characters (possible with the exception of the Shrinkers) chose their jobs. Why? They have unfinished business - just as Barbara and Adam had unfinished business in Beetlejuice.

(Of course "they found a loophole and moved on" but this is more-so to explain their necessary absence in Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. From a lore perspective, they could very well still be haunting the house for another 89 years. I (like many others now) believe the loophole was unfinished business. They had the family (Lydia) that they wanted all along and when she moved on with her life, they felt complete. Next stop: The Soul Train and The Great Beyond.)

When looking at these new characters, here's what I theorise for each of them:

Richard - Unfinished business: a family reunion. Richard died in the Amazon, away from Astrid and likely didn't get a proper goodbye. After saving her, thus seeing her once more, he could move on. It's possible too that he's not going to move on after Beetlejuice Beetlejuice due to waiting on more family to see again. But we don't know that, so I'll keep it short.

Wolf Jackson - Unfinished business: "keeping it real." Wolf Jackson seems slightly in denial about his situation. Janet has to continuously remind him that he in an actor because he gets too into the bit he's currently doing. I think the man gets completely convinced he is a spy/detective/investigator/whatever it is he is hyper-fixated on becoming. He's method, dedicated to his craft and won't move on until he feels he has fulfilled every cast-type possible for his range. He's gunning for a Gross-cer.

Wolf Jackson's squad (including Janet) - Unfinished business: supporting cast. Judging by how useless they all are, I'd hedge bets that they are actors too, waiting for their "big break" or recognition to feel satisfied with life (or death). In the Toonverse, celebrities are canon. If these universes are more aligned than previously thought, this could be a possibility.

The Shrinkers - Unfinished business: think big. These poor sods got on the wrong side of a witch doctor (although I really do think a certain B-man is to blame for this). We saw what happened when the portal to the living world opened. Those suckers saw a bid for freedom and went for it. I'd wager that they're somewhat forced to work for Betelgeuse. Maybe he's promised them 'head' (not that kind) if they do his dirty work. After all, he got his head back to normal size. Who's to say he hasn't promised them the same if they work for him? (Let's hope they read the fine print in that contract).

The Janitor - Unfinished business: a taste for revenge. To be honest, I think this guy either died by suicide or totally on accident. Either way, it was from ingesting something toxic. He's got a hankering for bleach and chemicals, who's to say this was just in death? I think he was content working in the afterlife, consuming these deadly toxins with zero repercussions.

Much of the same can be said for the Dry Cleaner. People need their clothes cleaned, he was good at it in life. Why not carry on if you're not ready to go?

Speaking of ready to go...

All aboard The Soul Train!

Another key point in Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is that (aside from Astrid, who was semi-forced to board), The Soul Train is something you board when you're ready to depart. Maybe some people are forced here and there, as there are guards stationed, but we are also reassured that Hell is an option for those who do truly fucked up shit.

(It's worth noting also that The Soul Train has other stops. The Pearly Gates, Elysium and another stop (my memory fails), all of which were DELAYED. Time works differently in the afterlife; maybe some people get jobs because the wait is truly an eternity.)

WOW, you made far! Congratulations for enduring my ramblings, here's a beetle for your trouble 🪲

After all that, here's what we do know:

If you died within a certain radius of your home, you're left to haunt it for 125 years.

If you died by suicide (and if Otho is correct), you have to work for an unspecified amount of time as a civil servant in the afterlife.

If you died via a horrific accident (Wolf Jackson, Janet and Richard), jobs are there for you and you don't even need the credentials to back up your experience.

You cannot leave the afterlife unless you are confirmed "dead dead", board the soul train, attempt to swap souls with a living person or get sent to Hell.

In summary:

Jobs are available in the afterlife. There's no expectation to "work" but there's not much else to do. If you're not ready to leave the afterlife, (perhaps you're still processing death, waiting for loved ones to meet you on the other side or even enjoying the weird and wonderful atmosphere), why not get a job?

Well...unless you're forced into one by a horny poltergeist. But that's a whole other post.

But hey, what do I know? I'm only living.

[scandalouslamb]

can't believe that while I am trying to be productive with real life things florus fic has me having thoughts like "is history not a god?" and my brain is actively compiling reasons why history is in fact a god.

[alastorss]

brother i still have no idea how tumblr works and this is my first request and it might not even be in the right place but—

why does NO ONE talk about the fact that “Allie” would be such a silly nickname for Alastor? i would love to see some headcanons/a lil story about how he would react to the reader calling him that. maybe completely detests it at first but secretly likes it?

a/n: hello lovely, you've come to the right place 🫶 yes yes yes!!! i'm obsessed with this idea <3 i'm adding to this: he would think you're mad at him when you finally call him normally again ^ ^

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

"What did you say?"

"Huh?" You hum, attention devoted to fixing Alastor's bowtie.

"That thing you just said. Repeat it."

You finally blink at him, using your palms to smooth out the front of his jacket before stepping out of his bubble. "I said your tie was undone."

"No, dear, before that."

The Radio Demon can feel his eye twitching in irritation. You look at him again dumbly, trying to retrace your steps.

"Oh!" You flash him a little smile and he thinks his brain is going to explode. "Allie?"

He just gawks at you, surprised by the sheer audacity you have. And it doesn't help that he's so fond of you that he doesn't even want to strike you down.

Had it been someone else calling him so endearingly, he might have done something violent. But how could he do that to you, his darling companion, when you look so sweet calling him such a ridiculous name?

"My apologies but... where did that come from?"

"Isn't it cute?" You grin, completely dodging his question.

No, he wants to say. Absolutely not. However, your smile is ever-growing and he can't very well deny you this pleasure. So he sucks it up, draws in a deep inhale to compose himself, and nods.

"Of course, cher."

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Weeks pass and the rest of your friends in the hotel begin to raise a brow at how casually you address such a powerful Overlord. And more than that, he doesn't seem to want to correct you.

It becomes his name reserved exclusively for you. Angel had tried, once, to purr out Allie in a seductive way that made Alastor's skin crawl. Never again.

He gets used to it. Even likes the idea that there is something shared between you that no one else can have. That is, until you're pushing around your breakfast on a plate one morning.

"Can you pass the salt, Alastor?"

He looks up from his mug of coffee in confusion, brain taking a moment to buffer before it catches up with his already moving mouth.

"Alastor?" He repeats his own name, staring at you intensely and most definitely not passing the salt over the table.

You look back up at him blankly. "That's your name, don't wear it out."

He scoffs at your lame joke before sliding the salt shaker over the table. There's something unsettling him and he can't quite place it.

Setting down his newspaper, he watches you as you eat. His gaze is so fiery that you look up from your food almost instantly.

"What's wrong?"

"Are you alright? Have I done something to upset you?"

Your brows scrunch. "No, why?"

"Why did you not call me Allie?"

Complete and utter silence settles over the dining table until he feels like he can't breathe. Your spoonful of food hovers just in front of your open mouth as you stare.

Then, laughter. Laughter fills the room and his ears so heartily that he feels it in his own chest. You double over the table in your fit, spoon clinking onto the plate as you drop it.

"What?" He grumbles.

"Of course I'm not mad at you!" You howl, using a finger to wipe up the tears gathering in your eyes. "'Sides, I thought you hated that name?"

His jaw grows taut. "Hate is a powerful word."

"So you like it?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Liar, you do!"

Alastor is never one to get flustered, but here he is for the first time in his afterlife, teetering on the edge of bursting out in flames. "You are terrible, you know that?"

You snicker, leg getting trapped between his under the table. "Yeah, Allie, I know."

Yet the way his smile softens says it all.

~

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[chososdiscordkitten]

Synopsis: The faces the jjk men make before, during, and after they cum ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

Includes: 𝑻𝒐𝒋𝒊, 𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒐, 𝑵𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊, 𝑮𝒐𝒋𝒐, 𝑯𝒊𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒊, 𝑮𝒆𝒕𝒐, 𝑵𝒂𝒐𝒚𝒂 Cw: mentions of penetrative sex, no gendered pronouns nor desc of readers no no square (?)

(a.n) I wish I can stream the faces and the noises I pictured to y'all while I wrote this. heavenly

MDNI

Toji Zenin

His face when he first feels your warmth surrounding his fat tip- it's like a scowl. Almost infuriated that you could be so fucking warm and so welcoming.

Eyebrows furrowed and squinted eyes, his lips pursed in an almost pout. As slow as he tries to be as he's sliding into you, he would rush it- being able to feel the sting as he stretches you. Needing to desperately be fully shoved inside of you- so badly he could feel it run down his spine. 

I have yet to express this, but I think Toji makes such a cute face when he's close. During the act itself, he can control it- making sure to keep his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pressed together. 

And when he feels that all too familiar feeling pooling in his tummy, Toji knows. He knows the face he makes when he cums is embarrassing. (It's not, it's so hot)

So every time he's close, he drops his head, allowing the black strands of hair to cover his expression as he quickening his pace. 

Toji’s eyebrows pinch up, unfurrowed, and almost like he’s getting lost in his pooling orgasm. His eyes squeeze tight together, his nose scrunches- barely present but he feels it happening. 

His lips part in the cutest way- bottom lip quivering as he fucks himself into you- trying to keep his moans low. And god- the light blush on his cheeks- so fucking cute.

All too embarrassed to let you see him like this- so he’d keep his head dropped. 

The first few times Toji did it, you assumed he was looking down at his cock thrusting into you. But all it took was one glimmer of his ‘o’ face for you to find determination in seeing it next time, somehow finding yourself on top. 

Riding him as his eyebrows threatened to unfurrow- he was practically using all his strength to keep them pinched.

In that moment Toji was so close to turning you into a reverse cowgirl position, his hands on your hips ready to turn you- only you planted your hands onto his chest. Over excited to see the long-awaited expression.

Toji tried turning away, only for your hand to cup his chin and turn him to face you- pressing a sloppy kiss to his parted lips with half-lidded eyes, grinding yourself onto him as quickly as you could manage, just to see. 

And there it was- in all its glory. Verging on pathetic the way his lip quivered against yours. His light blush and the little glimmer in his eyes. 

But as quick as it arrived, it was gone even faster when he realized you did this on purpose.

Which only caused him to start mocking the faces you make during intercourse. 

Choso Kamo

Awe poor Choso, I hate to say it but most of the time it looks like his soul is about to leave his body. Bordering on ascending to the afterlife. 

The second the first centimeter of his tip breaches your entrance- all the air in his lungs is knocked out.

Lip tucked between his teeth as he slowly glides into you, if his eyes weren’t closed- you'd see them threatening to roll back just from the feeling of your warmth surrounding him. 

If you asked him- Choso would say he was able to feel your warmth all over his body. Feel it shiver in his shoulders as he slid into you at an agonizing pace. Even if the fucked out expression he had, told you one thing- he was cautious enough to not slam into you. Fearing he would cum prematurely if he did. 

And that face only follows him during intercourse. It's even more evident in missionary- if that were possible. 

His hands gripped so fucking harshly on your hips as his eyebrows knit together. Choso’s thrusts start slow- gradually quickening and losing any pattern or rhythm.

I think with Choso, when he's so close he can feel it loom over him- creeping up his back and over his shoulders as he tries to control his hips. Not being able to keep a set pace, nor steady the way he breathes. 

With him, his thrusts are deep and rough once he gets close. And his face, god his face. Call me biased, (I am) but it's my favorite one to picture. Especially when he tries to breathe properly, practically hyperventilating as he tries. 

Choso unwillingly empties his lungs when he's close, caving his chest as his eyes threaten to roll to the back of his head. Eyebrows knitted and a droplet of sweat trickling down his temple. Teeth clenched with a pouty bottom lip, flashing his bottom row of teeth. 

When he's pouring himself into you- his shoulders shudder as he tries to inhale, one of his eyes daring to shut as they roll to the back of his head. 

And if we're talking JJK universe, you know damn well his nose stripe leaks a lil when he cums. Especially when he's overstimulated himself, because you just feel so fucking good. 

Choso’s hips don't hesitate to go lazy once he empties himself into you for the last time. Finally able to breathe properly since the moment he slid into you.

Idk why but I hc that Choso cannot control his breathing when he's fucking. Like either he keeps a somewhat steady pace and has to manually breathe, or he can focus on breathing and have unpatterned thrusts. It's one or the other, never both.

And after, he has a little glow on his face, a light blush on his cheeks as he smiles with a satisfied sigh. Eyes closed- too fucked out to even want to open them. Physical embodiment of :3 

Kento Nanami

The face Nanami makes when he first slides the tip of his cock into you- it's almost like a wince. A shuddering gasp leaves his lips as he slowly works himself into you. Fighting off every urge that's shouting at him in his mind to fully sheathe himself in your warmth. 

As he's working up his orgasm, Nanami tries to keep his eyes open. Practically straining himself as his grip tightens on whatever part of your body he's bracing on to. His lips part as he started panting lightly, a light blush adorning his cheeks.

Even more blushed, is his chest. The rosiness in his cheeks roams down his neck and chest- making the skin there warm to the touch. A light sheen of sweat on his pecs as his nose threatened to crinkle, to Nanami it was probably one of the most embarrassing things of his ‘o’ face. 

But it was always sooo cute, you always knew he was close whenever his nose would crinkle ever so slightly.

Nanami always tries to hold out as long as he can, wanting to be sure to please you before even considering himself. 

But when it's his turn, his eyes flutter closed, his eyebrows pinch upwards as he feels the coil in his tummy burn inside of him. Nanami never needed to voice he was about to cum, his expression did that job for him. 

Teeth gritted as his head tipped back- Nanami tries to keep the pace he held before, but the roll of his hips becomes sloppy- almost trying to push himself past that edge. And when he finally cums, he inhales a small gasp. His shoulders trembling as his hips tried to keep their pace, hoping he could ride himself down, only for his trembles to rumble onto his chest as he thrusted slowly. 

More of a groaner than a moaner in my opinion, like teeth-gritted throaty groans as he cums. It completely contrasts with how pretty he looks.

And after, his forehead still damp as he sighs. His eyes threatening to close as he feels the afterglow replace the blush on his cheeks. Small smile on his lips as he exhales with a content hum. 

Satoru Gojo

One of the few that hurry the process of being inside. His lips parted and eyebrows threatened to knit as he felt you pull him in.

Teasing you for the vulgar squelching of your warmth- that was practically sucking him in. Doesn't take long for him to bottom out- a shuddering exhale leaving him as he feels your warmth surround his shaft. 

Pretty known thing in the fandom that he looks like such a slut when he cums. Eyes half-lidded, teeth clenched with a pretty blush on his cheeks, and his nose crinkled in the slightest. 

Satoru’s eyebrows would pinch upwards and he would thrall his head back, unashamed moans coming from his throat as he pushes himself to another orgasm. 

I think we've all agreed that Gojo moans without embarrassment or shame, Satoru lets you know you make him feel good by just his sounds. God if I can put y'all in my head so you can hear how I picture him sounding. 

When Gojo cums, the face he makes is almost like he's practiced it a million times, like he's studied how pretty he looks when he cums. But nope, when you bring it up he's just like “I make a face when I cum?” Like yes you do, and you look so fucking pretty when you do. 

I'm sure if you tell him how pretty he looks mid-way through- he would probably start twitching and writhing at the compliment. All but telling you to shut up- threatening he’ll cum if you don't stop. 

Unbelievable how the light sheen of sweat on his forehead only accentuates it, and how delicate his eyelashes look as he tries to keep his eyes open. 

As he comes close, the knot in his lower tummy becomes undone- his pace starts faltering, relishing in the warmth you've so generously provided for him. Instead of thrusts, it's more like his hips start rolling against you, his back arching mid-way through dragging his cock out. 

When he finally cums, his hips shiver the tiniest bit, directing them into his shoulders as he huffs ragged breaths with whimpers sprinkled between them. 

And after, as he's winding himself down from the shivering orgasm, his face would be formed in utter bliss. An almost glow on his cheeks as the corners of his lips dare to curl into a smile. Practically fucking himself dumb from the continuous strokes he would roll with his hips. 

Overall, a very pretty face when he cums. Almost too pretty -.-

Hiromi Higuruma

When he first slides in; the corner of his lips curl into a smile, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief at how your excitement squelched around him. Almost perplexed at how your slick easily invited him in. 

And when he'd be fully nestled inside of you, all it takes is one mindless clench of the muscles surrounding him for Hiromi to place his forehead against your chest. Fearing if you continue he might cum too soon.

This man’s face betrays him when he cums. Looks like he's on the verge of sneezing when he gets close.

For sure Hiromi’s hands start trembling, almost like he edges himself but he doesn't stop thrusting. Making sure to hold out as long as he can, his head threatening to tip back as he starts huffing heavy breaths. His mouth goes slack-jawed as he lets out throaty moans from his lips. 

Hiromi’s eyebrows pinch up, eyes shut as he lightly flares his nose with the tip of it twitching. He tries to warn he's close- incoherent words smothered in moans leaving his lips as his thrusts start to falter their pace. 

And always, always. The millisecond before he cums- he inhales sharply. A mix of a gasp and a wince before he's pouring himself into you. His eyebrows furrowed with half-lidded eyes, his heavy breaths turn into louder groans as he tries to wind himself down from his orgasm. 

Most of the time Hiromi ends up overstimulating himself trying to stay inside of you for as long as possible.

If he has you bent on all fours, his knees give and his thrusts turn into lazy humps as he presses his chest onto your back. Causing you to fall with him onto the sheets, getting an earful of his grunts and ragged breaths for air. Not caring if his mouth is right next to your ear- 

If he's fucking you in missionary, his elbows planted on the bed, give. Causing him to press his chest into yours- bordering on crushing you as his hips try their best to move. 

Getting an up-close look at his face- fucked out and gasping for air. His light grunts take a certain raspiness he only gets when he's overstimulating himself. The very tip of his nose flushed and his lips parted as he rode out his orgasm.

The look on his face when he finally gets the strength in his limbs to look at you- he looks almost tired, with slow blinks and puffy lips. But it's full of almost tranquility. 

Hiromi looks at you with eyes full of peace, as though you were the one that granted him that. 

Suguru Geto

I think out of all of them- He's the only one who keeps a somewhat poker face while he slides in, a low gasp evades his lips slowly sinking himself into you. The occasional wince, pouting his bottom lip to flash his teeth when you clench around him with a quiet hiss. 

Suguru’s expression he tries to keep- slips through his grasp as he fully allows himself to sink into the surrounding feeling of your warmth. Letting his eyebrows quirk up in the slightest. 

The light blush on his cheeks deepened in the slightest feeling you pull him in. Even if it wasn't your intention, somehow you always welcomed his cock. Which only made it harder to keep his hips from roughly thrusting into you with no warning.

But Suguru was no monster, even if every single brain stem that pulsed in his skull- shouting at him to thrust and keep thrusting till his hips gave out. He always granted you the courtesy of slowly pushing into you.

And when he's fully burrowed inside, a low grunt shudders from his lips- being able to feel his cock pulse against your walls.

Another one that has such a pretty face when he cums. No matter what is happening- if his hips are snapping at an unbelievable pace, riding him, if you did something to piss him off- the churning face of his orgasm is always the same.

Suguru’s eyebrows furrow with a light pinch upwards, his cheeks blushed a rosy pink with parted lips. Feeling the warmth in his tummy overfill, he filters the light moans from his throat with his lip tucked between his teeth.

When he's close- Geto likes to keep his hands full, be it two hands on your ass groping harshly- on your tits, a handful of hair- whatever. I'm sure he likes keeping his hands full while he succumbs to the orgasm he tried to suppress. 

And as his hips threaten to lose rhythm, louder grunts fall from his nibbled lip, and his hands only grip harsher, no use in warning you he's cumming when it’s already being done. But his eyes are shut tightly, more grunts littered with small whines leaving his throat. 

Suguru’s lips part slightly, blushed cheeks tingling and a trembled bottom lip. A loud groan rumbles from his chest as his face scrunches, bowing his head down and focusing on trying to keep a steady pace. 

Geto’s grip on whatever part of your body he had his hands full with- gripping even harsher, so sure he would leave you sore whenever he let go. 

The best part was watching his eyebrows unfurrow, the way the proof of his orgasm melted off of his face as he came down from a pinnacle. The look of pure serenity replaced it as he inhaled every breath you exhaled. 

Naoya Zenin

Hmm, with Naoya it depends on whether you like him or not. 

On one hand, we have Naoya who makes the most absurd face when he first slams himself into you. Almost mixed with a grimace and a glimmer of a smile on his lips. The face he makes borders on ugly. I mean let's be real here, Naoya wouldn't give you more than a few milliseconds to get used to the sudden intrusion. 

Every. Single. Time, the sudden thrust into you almost makes him cum. And as you've told him- ‘that won't happen if you go slow’ he still would do it. Goosebumps rise on his shoulders from feeling you hug his cock almost too tightly. The warmth in his tummy shows him that maybe. Just maybe, you were right. Though he wouldn't admit it. 

If he holds out long enough, the face he makes as he's close is a stark comparison to his pretty sounds. I'll give Naoya that, he sounds very pretty when he's close. Little whimpers you can tell came out of his lungs unwillingly. 

And his face- it's almost painful. Like every thrust he stutters against you, pains him. Naoya's eyebrows furrowed so harshly, his nose scrunched and his teeth gritted. Shining when he parts his lips in a sneer. 

And on the other hand, we have Naoya, who is too pretty for his own good. 

If he allows it, his eyebrows slightly peaking up as his lips part. A shuddering exhale leaves his lips as he bullies his cock into you. Not as harshly as the other hand, but still tries to be fully nuzzled inside of you as fast as he can. 

As Naoya works himself up, the blush on his cheeks ever present as he feels himself start coming undone at the seams. 

I am a firm believer in Naoya making little whimpers and moans during any kind of intercourse, which he tries to hide. Of course. But they always come out, muffled or in an attempted grunt that he only forced from his throat to disguise them.

And when Naoya’s close, so close- he feels it rumble up his spine and surround his chest. He finally stops repressing his pretty sounds and fully enthralls himself in focusing on cumming. Not caring if you saw his crinkled nose or his pretty blushed cheeks. 

His eyebrows pinched in pure delirium as he unloaded himself into you, shoulders shivering and his eyes lightly blinking shut. Just fucked out enough to not care if you heard the unfiltered whimpers fall from his lips. 

Naoya’s jaw threatens to go slack as he rides himself down, his eyes clenched tight as he feels you milk him for anything he has to give. 

And after, even if he turns over without a care in the world, uncaring if you're clean or need help. His face is littered with undeserved ecstasy as he pretends to go to sleep. The light blush on his cheeks still evident even as he sighs contently. (bitch)

-

Shorter than my usual stuff but im planning a lengthy gojo fic for tmmrw. plus im incuding naoya more often, he might have a permenant spot now in my multi fics. hmmm

[charlietheepicwriter7]

R̸̜̈́u̵̟͘t̶̺̓ḧ̵͇l̷̟̋ē̶̘s̵̨̎s̵̩͒ṋ̵̋e̵͙̐s̵̡̈́ś̸͙

Get in the Water prompt Storm alternate version Animatic Fanart

There was a spell, Constantine had explained after his own trip to the afterlife. Something to contain Danyal's soul long enough to resolve his unfinished business, to keep him still and away from the influences of his fellow dead. And if that didn't work, Constantine continued, then there were ways to force a spirit to rest. It was better for a ghost to move on by themselves, but if there was no other choice...

Damian hoped Danyal would choose to rest on his own. That he'd let him explain, finally.

Danyal had been weak. Strong in a fight, but too weak to kill, and that infuriated Damian. But he was scared more than he was angry. Because that weakness would get Danyal killed, could get Damian killed, could get the League killed. Even the newest recruits had a stronger desire to kill than Danyal.

He was the weakest link in the chain. And while their mother had taught them to be ruthless, Danyal had remained limp with mercy.

They needed Danyal's body. It would be Danyal's tie to the earth, Constantine explained as he joined them on the Batplane. The souls of the dead don't often linger on the mortal plain. The magician had speculated that the only reason Danyal had managed to manifest in the waters below Gotham was because of Damian's presence, but his remains would keep him stable this side of life for however long it took to heal his soul.

But was that even possible?

"I don't know, kid," Constantine admitted during the plane ride. "Wish I had a better answer for you, but... Your brother is a siren now. And from the sound of it? He really wants you dead."

"Then why didn't he kill me?" Damian argued. "He had hours to do it... or minutes..." The time he spent in that green world felt longer than the ten minutes Father couldn't find him, but... "He had me in his grasp and let me go. Doesn't that mean he didn't want to-"

"Have you ever heard the phrase 'Playing with your food?'" Constantine asked instead. "Sirens aren't known for letting their prey go. If we're out here, its because he wants us here."

They--Damian, Father, Constantine, Grayson, and Todd--landed in Nanda Parbat after a few hours. There was a crypt inside for members of the Al Ghul family who didn't use the Lazarus Pits. It was there Danyal's body was entombed. They would have to steal it.

And it was unfortunate that Constantine got them caught within five minutes of entry.

Damian glared daggers at the man as they were led towards the Lazarus Pit. Constantine shrugged. "What? I don't want assassins chasing after me because of some light grave robbing! Besides, we need to explain the situation anyway-"

"And what, precisely, needs to be explained?" asked a woman from inside the chamber. The heroes were pushed inside, only to see Talia Al Ghul standing where her father should have been. The Lazarus Pit hissed and boiled behind her, casing the cave in a ghoulish light.

Damian could hear laughing.

Father stepped forward. "Talia. Where's Ra's?" Grandfather was the biggest threat to their plan succeeding.

Mother... looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "I do not know. At the present moment... the Demon Head is missing."

You could hear a pin drop. "What do you mean?" Father demanded.

"It's as I said; he is missing. Yesterday, he was alone in the Pit, and hours later, no one could find him." She glanced behind her, at the waters, before looking back at them. "I had assumed he'd left to care for the League's interests. Now-" She tilted her chin up, looking down at them. "What exactly do you need to explain? What is so important that you break into my home to tell me?"

Stepping forward, Constantine explained. Mother looked grim as he spoke of Danyal, but did not interrupt. "We want to put his soul to rest. But for that, we need access to his body-"

"You dare ask for such a thing?" Mother snarled. "As if I even believe you. My son would never-"

"Your son?" Grayson snapped. "From the looks of it, you didn't care for either of your children!"

As the group descended into an argument, Damian heard laughter again, Danyal's high pitched giggle harmonizing with something deep and bone shaking. The Lazarus Pits loomed over him, beckoning him, whispering. Damian took a step towards it as his mother said, "I don't even have his body!"

"What?" Damian snapped at his mother, focusing back on the conversation. "But the crypts-"

"After your brother's murder, the Demon Head ordered for the culprit to be found. But they were never discovered." Because the culprit was Damian, he knew, and no one else ever learned about it. "I wanted to place him in the Pits immediately, but I was ordered to stay my hand until the murderer was caught. But..."

"He never was," Damian finished for her. "And then you put Danyal into the waters?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes. "And he never came back out. Even if it was too late, he'd still come back as the undead, but he never rose from the waters."

"Then this is entirely my fault."

"Finally," Danyal whispered in his ear, breath chilling his skin.

Damian did his best to ignore it. Danyal was haunting him. Danyal needed to be put to rest. If they couldn't do it Constantine's way, then they had to put him to rest another way.

Grayson looked troubled. "Robin, it's not your fault-"

"I'm the one who killed him," Damian confessed. Everyone stared at him. Grayson, horrified; Mother, blank; Father, betrayed. Damian continued, "I overheard you and Grandfather arranging a fight to the death, and I knew who would win. I couldn't... I couldn't allow Danyal to die without the Al Ghul name, in disgrace as the one who wasn't good enough. So I killed him, assassinated him, and now he's haunting me for revenge." Damian looked at the Pit. "So go ahead, Danyal."

"Damian, what are you saying?"

"Danyal wants revenge on the person who killed him; I'm giving it to him." Todd was staring at him. Damian might not be able to see past his helmet, but he could feel the respect coming off the man. "Danyal, I know you're here. Please come out." If he focused long enough, he could just making out wheezing breaths. "I can hear you, please-"

Father grabbed Damian by the shoulders. "Damian, listen to what you're saying! You're offering your life up for nothing!"

"B's right." Grayson placed a hand on his shoulder. "There's got to be another way. You don't have to do this!"

"Yes I do!" Damian ripped himself out of Nightwing's grip. "I'm the one who killed him! I'm the one at fault! My brother is suffering because of me, I have to save him-"

Stepping between them all, Mother slapped him across the face.

And the Pit's whispers fell silent.

Damian stared up at his mother, cheek throbbing with pain. She glared back. "Cease this behavior at once," she snapped. "There's no need to get so worked up over a ghost, of all thing-"

"T̴̯̃al̵̬͂ị̴̿a̵̮̕ ̵̼͐A̴̗̕l̷͈̆ ̴͚̓G̵͎̀h̷̻͒u̶̜͋l̴͍̀."

This time, everyone could hear Danyal's voice, filled with static and corrupted. Damian swallowed as his dead brother continued,

"D̸͕͠o̶̪̅ ̸͍̆ỹ̵̗ö̸̲ũ̸̧ ̶͖̚k̶̻͊ņ̸͐o̸̹̚ẘ̸̙w̷̛̹ḧ̸͚́o̷͉̅ ̵͈̑I̶̪̽ á̵̞m̶͙̂?̸̻͂"

The cavern shook as the Lazarus Pit bucked, a wave forming in the absolute center of the water. The wave rose, pillaring up above their head and brushing the ceiling. A cold wind rushed through the room and blew out the torches on the walls, leaving only embers and the occasional florescent behind. Damian braced himself for the waters to rush out and flood.

Instead, the water fell back into the pit, like it had never risen in the first place, leaving behind a lone figure in its wake.

"Danyal," Mother whispered.

And the dead boy glared back at her with pure contempt.

[edenesth]

The Captain's Favourite

Pairing: captain!Hongjoong x doctor!reader

Word Count: 1.1k

'Crazy Form' Comeback Special Series | Hongjoong | Seonghwa | Yunho | Yeosang | San | Mingi | Wooyoung | Jongho |

ATEEZ Masterlist

Struggling to steady your laboured breath, you pressed a trembling hand against the stab wound beneath your chest. Blinking rapidly, you attempted to regain clarity in your vision. From what you could discern, it seemed like the injury might not involve a vital organ, offering a glimmer of reassurance.

However, the stark reality hit hard – you were the sole medical professional on board.

You were always the one attending to the health of your fellow crewmates and never the one in need of medical attention. That all changed abruptly during the unexpected ambush launched by a rival pirate crew.

They strategically targeted a crucial member of the crew before escalating the assault further. The rationale was clear – if the ship's only medical personnel was incapacitated, who would attend to the wounded? Save for the captain, you were the next most important person on the vessel.

But the enemy was also aware you were so much more than just a doctor, "There she is, Captain Hongjoong's favourite. Get her," were the chilling words that you heard before feeling the sharp pain of a dagger piercing your abdomen.

The duration of the battle became a haze, with moments of consciousness slipping in and out as you observed, through blurred vision, your crewmates fighting back fiercely to defend your ship and all the treasures within.

The fight finally ended when your captain impaled the rival leader directly in the heart. Hongjoong, visibly exhausted, let out a weary exhale as he dropped his sword, "Take him and go, the rest of you. If you don't wish to join him in the afterlife." He commanded.

The rival pirates hastily moved to remove their leader's lifeless form from your ship without having to be told twice. It took no time for Captain Hongjoong to scan the surroundings anxiously, his heart racing as he searched for you.

"Wh-where is she—"

Before he could finish the sentence, he noticed what seemed to be your boots tucked away in a corner, cleverly concealed behind barrels. The enemy had evidently gone to great lengths to ensure you wouldn't be discovered until it was too late.

Without wasting a moment, he sprinted towards you, pushing all the obstacles out of his way with newfound strength fueled by desperation. His eyes widened, feeling his heart lurch at the sight of the red staining your shirt and your pale complexion.

"No, no, no, no, no, don't you dare leave me!" Hongjoong screamed, gently pulling you into his arms, "Hey, look at me. I'm your captain, and I order you not to close your eyes."

However, no amount of commanding could mend your injuries, and he was acutely aware of that fact. Time blurred as he urgently directed his crew to transport you to the nearest town without delay. Losing you was not an option he was willing to entertain.

Drawing on his experience from observing you tend to injured crewmates countless times, the captain applied pressure and bandaged your wound to minimise the bleeding until you could receive proper medical treatment.

Upon arriving at the closest town, you were swiftly taken to a medical facility, where Hongjoong fought to catch his breath as they gently took you from his arms, "Don't worry, we'll take care of her," He gave the medical staff a firm glare, "You better."

The nurse nodded nervously, motioning for him to wait by the available bench. Everyone in the facility recognised him; it was the very place he had taken you away from many years ago. As a woman, you had been denied the chance to prove yourself despite being an apprentice there.

That changed the day Hongjoong arrived, bloodied and in need of help.

With all the doctors unavailable, you, the only trainee present, seized the opportunity to showcase your skills by treating the pirate captain.

While he rested after you tended to his injury, Hongjoong overheard a conversation between you and your superior. Rather than receiving praise for your competent work, you were berated for not adhering to the rules and taking matters into your own hands.

Enraged by what he heard, he proposed taking you in as the crew doctor. Despite being aware of his pirate status, you agreed because no one had recognised and acknowledged your skills the way he did.

As time passed, you'd grown to harbour feelings for one another. Though neither of you openly admitted to them, the entire crew was well aware of the captain's undeniable affection for you. They often wondered when Hongjoong would muster the courage to confess.

You were used to him always watching out for you; he would go to great lengths, even pretending to be unwell just to stay near you. He'd reprimand other crewmates for inconveniencing you with their minor issues; a total hypocrite himself. It was hard for you to not realise the fact that he was clearly favouring you, especially when everyone aboard has been calling you 'the captain's favourite' since day one.

Except he would always be in denial whenever teased about it, despite his actions proving completely otherwise.

Now, waiting anxiously, he regretted not revealing his feelings sooner. The thought of you potentially dying without knowing his love haunted him. Reflecting on missed opportunities, he questioned why he hadn't uttered those three words earlier. What was holding him back? What was he so afraid of?

After what felt like an eternity, he was finally allowed to see you. Entering the room where you rested, he held his breath until relief flooded over him at the sight of your chest rising and falling steadily. He sat beside you, gently holding your hand to his face and pressing his lips against your palm, "Oh, thank god, you're okay."

Tears streamed down his face silently, oblivious to the fact that you'd awakened to his sobs. You smiled weakly, moving your fingers to wipe his wet cheeks, "Who would've thought? The mighty Captain Hongjoong is crying for me."

His head shot up immediately, a tearful chuckle escaping him and he nodded, "That's right. Do you see the power you have over me?" Taking a deep breath, he decided it was now or never, "I love you so much, you know that? You mean the world to me."

You nodded, "I love you too, captain. Thought you'd never admit it."

Leaning in, he kissed your lips softly, "I'll tell you I love you every day now if I have to. And I refuse to let anything like this happen again. You're moving to my quarters at once."

If you thought he was joking, you were mistaken. Things were about to change drastically. Consider yourself promoted from crew doctor to the captain's most valuable treasure, as if you weren't already.

Now that we have Prince San, General Seonghwa, and Captain Hongjoong, I'm still contemplating what other roles to assign to the rest of the members.

Anyway, really hope you're all enjoying these imagines. Thanks for reading, and as always, let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[jinjeriffic]

DC x DP prompt/ficlet

Throwing my hat in the ring with this idea that has been doing the zoomies in my brain for days. The Tim/Danny Accidental Ghost Marriage to Fake Dating to Friends to Lovers AU:

Pariah Dark was a piece of shit. Before his imprisonment, mortals would sometimes manage to bargain with the Ghost King for scraps of power. One of the "standard" deals was to send PD a "Bride" to play with and feed on (because I HC he feeds on fear and pain) and what better way than a little mortal battery that couldn't get away from him? The deal was sealed with a cursed amulet. Now in one instance, the contract was never fulfilled (maybe the petitioner died before he could complete his half) and the amulet was lost. After Pariah was imprisoned and couldn't make deals anymore the knowledge of the rituals needed was gradually forgotten since they didn't work anymore...

Eventually the amulet gets dug up by archeologists (maybe in Egypt or Mesopotamia?) and ends up in a traveling exhibit in Gotham. A Rogue robs the place (Riddler? Two-Face? doesn't really matter). When the Bats show up to foil the robbery, during the fight with the goons a drop of Red Robin's blood gets on the amulet, there's a blinding flash of green light and the amulet is suddenly glued to him.

While everyone is dazed by the ghostly magic flashbang, Fright Knight pops out of a portal, yoinks Red Robin across his saddle and jumps back through the portal before anyone can stop him. Cue the Bats trying to frantically figure out what in the multi-dimensional occult hell happened and where RR went?!

Meanwhile, Danny is disturbed to receive a ghostly missive in his college dorm to tell him that his Mail Order Bride has been delivered to his Ghost Zone Palace and is awaiting him so they can consummate their Unholy Matrimony.

----------------

Danny: Wtf I have to study I don't have time to get MARRIED

Fright Knight: I'm sorry my liege, but according to the laws of ghosts, gods and magic you already ARE

Danny: Wtf. How did this happen?

RR: I would like to know that too

Danny: Oh shit, you're a superhero. Frighty, you can't just kidnap people! Especially not SUPERHEROES!

RR: While that's good to hear, I would really like to know about this supposed marriage..?

FK: I am not aware of the exact details, I was merely summoned to retrieve the Bride of the Ghost King. There used to be standard magical contracts for this, which went into effect when the Bride bled on the King's Token...

RR: Shit

Danny: Hold on, PARIAH got married? Multiple times??

FK: ...but we can always consult the Royal Archivist, if we can dig him out from under the several thousand years worth of paperwork that piled up while there was no King actively ruling...

Danny: Oh ancients, am I gonna have to deal with that?? I have exams to prepare for, dude!

RR: ...the dead still have to do exams? And paperwork?? *horror*

-------------

Some time and explanations later...

Royal Archivist: It took some digging, but I believe I have found the contract in question. You are one Timothy Drake-Wayne, correct?

Tim: Fml

RA: Ahem. The contract was sealed with your mortal blood, as is standard procedure. Congratulations, you are officially King-Consort of the Infinite Realms! Until death do you part, and all that

Danny: Can I see that contract? ...This isn't in English

RA: Oh dear, looks like we will have to schedule your Royal Highness classes in reading cuneiform/hieroglyphics

Tim: Okay, does it say anywhere in that contract how to dissolve it? What's the procedure for a ghost divorce? Fright Knight mentioned the previous king being married multiple times

RA: Well usually, when Pariah tired of a consort he would simply devour their soul...

Danny: Ewwwww I am so not doing that

Tim: I concur. I can't imagine my soul would taste good anyway

Danny: That's what you took from that??

RA: ...but when you die and your soul passes into the Afterlife proper, the contract will be fulfilled. As long as you're not resurrected again.

Tim: Nuts, there goes that loophole

RA: Until then you are the Consort and duty-bound to fulfill his Royal Highness' every whim; ghostly, spiritual, carnal...

Danny: *sinks through the floor in embarrassment*

Tim: Can't he just... release me from the contract? Take the amulet off me or something?

RA: Not without obliterating your soul, no

Danny and Tim: Fuck

--------------

Some time later, while Danny is away consulting other ghosts on possible ways of dissolving the contract, they discover the nasty little clause that if Tim isn't in regular physical contact with Danny the amulet starts draining his life force. To prevent victims from escaping you see... Danny really really hates Pariah right now.

They eventually return to the mortal plane to explain to the Batfam what the hell is going on and that they're still trying to fix it. In the meantime, Danny can't miss any more classes (studying areospace engineering at MIT or sth) and Tim has to stick close to him because of the curse...

Alfred: Oh dear, looks like Master Timothy will have to go to college after all *unflappable British Smugness*

Bruce pulls a lot of strings to fast track Tim getting his high school diploma and let him attend classes with Danny (he's not officially enrolled yet, but Money, Dear Boy). They never know when Danny has to respond to a ghost emergency or Red Robin to a Bat emergency, so they stay pretty much joined at the hip in their civilian lives. Of course there's gonna be rumors. Why did the Wayne CEO suddenly drop everything to go to college? So they make up a story about Danny and Tim having been secret boyfriends for a while and Tim becoming so smitten that he moves with him to Boston...

Cue the fake dates, interviews with magazines, couple photoshoots to really sell the bit... and the two young men gradually becoming friends... and then "Feelings?? But what do I do?? He was forced into this?" etc.

[reveluving]

angel in hell ; the ghoul x reader

summary: hell on earth is more tolerable with his light by his side.

warnings: allusions to s~mut (minors DNI!), very brief mentions of attempted su~icide, reader as an 'entertainer' is used loosely (for your creativity!), cocky (softer) hard-ass x beautiful badass darling trope mmm, reader was born before the war, age gap but not really (think him in his 40s & you in your 20s/30s but in 200-ish years old), strong language, bits of angst and more fluff overall!

a/n: just a little tester because I could not help it HAHAHA had this in my mind for a few days, and now that I've started the show, I have an excuse to post it 💅🏼 please enjoy & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» curious about my writing? come & check out my main m.list!

'You wondered how your dead father would react to your relationship with a deadly and smitten cowpoke.' ;

You were an entertainer before it all. The best of the best. A real knockout of the century and the kindest of them all.

If only you knew it had its downsides.

Your admirer (read: obsessor) being none other than the Overseer of 33 himself, forcing you into the vault lifestyle with him to be his beloved.

But your mental strength, your humanity, your free will was unbudgeable.

Not even the experiments could budge you.

Not until that one fucking serum.

You tried everything. Before and after your escape.

But the afterlife, or whatever the hell that existed outside of this godforsaken world, just wouldn't take you.

Your mama always said that by living a good, long life, the universe gets to show you what they had to offer.

Thank the heavens she didn't live long enough to take her words back, if she knew the hell her only daughter was put into.

And though the Vault taught you how to survive better than the poor souls on the surface, sometimes you wished you didn't remember how to. Yearning for the ignorance and the near-zombified state they were in over the pristine lifestyle that would jump out of you every once in a while.

At least whatever the underground snakes injected you with kept your youth intact.

Though, you weren't the only one reminiscing your old days, remembering the smiles that immediately bloomed from your presence.

Howard, The Ghoul remembers you.

Nobody at his great age could ever forget a sweet face like yours. Standing out from all the yuppies, despite being well-off yourself at the time, much like you were now. You knew your rights from your wrongs, and they were never for show. Regardless of the bags under your eyes on sleepless nights, or the scars that would decorate your skin after a rough-up, just until your curse magically wooshes it away.

Despite your scoffs, your wave-offs over your old life, that the present had no need for an entertainer, he would say otherwise.

All. The. Time.

Always countering your modesty with the highest praises, albeit sometimes lewdly.

But… not always.

He knew that you knew you were one of a kind if he was able to tell you his life before the bombs dropped. That he was able to tell you stories of his late family. That he was able to tell you that you were 'somethin' special t'him'.

You wondered how your dead father would react to your relationship with a deadly and smitten cowpoke.

But you were on your own now.

Always been for over two hundred fucking years.

At least, that was the way it was before.

Not anymore. Not with the foul-mouthed gunslinger and his pooch, who, to the chagrin of your man, adored you more than him.

Which, really, how couldn't you talk Howard's ear off for harming the sweetheart at first?

Disbelief was something he had lived with from the day he stumbled upon you in the badlands one fine night. The pretty little lady who didn't look like she could hurt a fly back then now aimed her trusty rifle at him with an unlit ciggy in between your lips. Not a tremor in sight as you looked through your scope.

He was half-tempted to be shot.

And well, you did, taking the shot. It did as good as a chocolate teapot, and as you quickly tried to reload, he took a good look at you.

You were a sight for sore eyes before, but today, gorgeous wasn't even cutting it, and if he wasn't daydreaming about your messy hair and sorry clothing article for a sleepwear, then he definitely was about that one night—your first night.

How you teasingly pulled the wide collar of your top down, revealing more and more of your velvety skin. How gentle your kisses were, brushing your lips along his neck like he'd finally break after a lifespan of wandering. How you looked up at him, lips parted and eyes dazed with lust and dare he say, affection.

He knew he was a goner.

But like all the time, he wanted to be greedy.

And for once in his life, after an eternity, the future was finally shedding him some light of hope.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

a/n: if something ain't right, no it isn't ❤️ don't worry about it, still hope you enjoy! ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[majosullivan]

Nevermore Dashboard Simulator

🌷 many-coloured-grass Follow

Can we all agree to stop making jokes about each other’s deaths? Making light of someone’s death even as a joke is really gross

🪦 deadgirlwalking Follow

No I was murdered so I can reclaim it

85,958 notes

⏳ dream-within-a-dream Follow

Okay but can someone tell me how posts here are getting so many notes? There’s like around 100 people at the academy and I’m frequently seeing posts with well over 1,000 notes. Like, it would be one thing if these posts were years old but some of them are from 2 days ago. Did I just miss the memo and everyone here has at least 10+ accounts, like WHERE are you guys coming from?

👻 hourofsecrecy Follow

Can the spirits not show their appreciation for people’s commentery? Can the creatures of the night not find humour in wits and gists of others? What is the difference from the newly departed and the Unseen Ones?

⏳ dream-within-a-dream Follow

Absolutely horrific answer, thank you for your time

26,496 notes

🪱 conqueror-of-worms Follow

Tell me why it’s around eight in the morning and the first thing I see while heading to the dining hall is Lenore PINING Annabel Lee AGAINST A WALL

☠️ spookyxskeletons Follow

🪱 conqueror-of-worms Follow

Care to clarify who the hell you were referring to in this post?

☠️ spookyxskeletons Follow

Yes

3,270 notes

🎈 floatinghoax Follow

After everything the afterlife could have been, you’re telling me that I have to go to SCHOOL and have CLASSES that start at 9AM? Truly tempted to walk straight into the wasteland, there’s only so much a second chance at life is worth

#not to mention with have fucking ROOMMATES #this academy is MASSIVE #you’re telling me there isn’t enough room for single rooms in this place?

7,984 notes

🥀 wilted-rose Follow

I’m curious, who do you guys think you could take in their spectre forms?

🥀 wilted-rose Follow

IN A FIGHT

69,285 notes

🎶 decomposingmusic Follow

You’re not about to manifest your spectre, you’re just dehydrated

🩰 ghosting-giselle Follow

out of the way gay boy i’m boutta separate myself from my remaining mortal ties and embrace the abilites of my spiritual form

🩰 ghosting-giselle Follow

nures rom

173,032 notes

🌙 voyage-to-the-moon Follow

do you think the Deans wake up every day, take one look at us before telling Ms. Poppet ‘PUT THOSE BEASTS IN SITUATIONS!’

2,396 notes

🌃 eveningstar Follow

Does anyone know if Duke and Pluto (the two boys friends with Lenore) are an item or not? Cause any time I’ve seen them interact, Duke has consistently referred to Pluto as Mon Minou (my kitten in french) and I’m not sure if the two of them are together or if they’re just…Like That

🌃 eveningstar Follow

UPDATE: SO IT TURNS OUT PLUTO DIDN’T KNOW WHAT MON MINOU MEANT AND FOUND OUT THROUGH MY POST. HIM AND DUKE HAVE BEEN BICKERING ABOUT IT ALL THE WAY BACK TO THE DORM ROOMS

🌃 eveningstar Follow

Despite what you would think would occur from this development, none of this has answered by original question

#I was just curious if these two were gay or just European #by all accounts they might be both

6,974 notes

🍋 gives-you-lemons Follow

I think I’m about half with through the manor right now? Honestly this lesson is going much better than I expected!

🍋 gives-you-lemons Follow

RATS RATS RATS RATS RATS RATS R&)26?83@/$

5,052 notes

☔️ dew-dropped-nights Follow

[about to be eaten by one of the monsters in the Teraphobia trial] okay but do you think I’m cute? Be honest

4,824 notes

🪐 eureka Follow

Do you think that Annabel Lee and Lenore have ever explored each others bodies

🌷 many-coloured-grass Follow

Can you fucking not do this? Not only are they real people, they’re our classmates and clearly can’t stand each other. Stuff like this is weird and gross

🔮 sorcery-sorcery-sorcery Follow

I bet they fucked nasty up at the widow’s watch

🥂 drinking-into-the-grave Follow

This is actually how Lenore won the Mystery Manor lesson

☠️ spookyxskeletons Follow

Sometimes that butch pussy gets you acting unwise

🏵️ pendulum-in-the-pit Follow

THAT

WHAT

🪦 deadgirlwalking Follow

What’s not clicking

29,496 notes

[fics-by-noworriesifnot]

Draco and Crookshanks were stretched out over the duvet while Hermione got ready for bed. “You really mustn’t scare Harry and Ron like that.” She said perching on the edge of the bed while removing her bobby pins. “They’ve been through a lot and they’re still quite sensitive.” 

Draco raised a brow in response. “Though…” Hermione continued. “Ron’s shrieking was rather nostalgic, actually.” She brushed her fingers through her hair, scouring for any wayward hairpins before turning to face Draco.

“Malfoy… Can I ask you something.” She said in a soft inquisitive voice.

“I suspect you’re going to.” Draco said, pushing up from his elbows to a sitting position.

“Can I touch you?” Hermione asked in a voice just above a whisper. Draco’s brow arched to meet his hairline, a lascivious grin spread across his face. “Have I died and gone to heaven?” He purred. Hermione flushed scarlet. “Not like that!” She gasped, her brows furrowing. “Look- nevermind. I was just curious.” Draco raised, what Hermione thought, was a placating hand, then he said. “Go on, Granger.” His hand remained outstretched, his face unreadable. “Before I change my mind.”

Slowly, Hermione raised her own hand to meet his. Though she knew that logically it would happen this way, she was still surprised to see her fingertips pass through his, touching air when she thought that perhaps she might feel him. “Oh.” She breathed, as she continued to move her palm through his. “You’re so cold.” She said, noticing how the temperature dropped several degrees while their hands intertwined. Draco pulled away first, staring down at his own hand in silent disbelief, as if he too, were expecting to feel the connection that had been quietly creeping between them these past few weeks. “Yes, well.” He said through a sharp exhale. “I don’t feel anything.” And he stood, striding several paces before Hermione asked him where he was going. He turned back to her and shrugged. “Thought I might go haunt the west wing… perhaps rattle some chains and groan ominously-” “Stay.” Hermione interrupted, her eyes widened as though she hadn’t meant to say it aloud. She looked down at the duvet and ran a finger over the embroidery. “That is, if you don’t mind. I’m still not used to how quiet it is out here and I’ve grown quite used to you hovering around.” Draco folded his arms over his chest. “Hovering?” He said with a derisive edge to his voice. Hermione patted the bedspread and Draco drifted slowly back to her.

“Alright Granger.” He said, taking up the spare pillow. He looked at her sideways through his lashes. “But if there’s a hint of snoring, I’m outta here.” Hermione huffed and he tilted his head to face her. “The afterlife has done nothing for your manners, you know?” She said softly, her eyelids already heavy. Draco offered her a small smile as her eyes slowly drifted closed. After a few beats he rolled over to face her. Watching as her breaths grew slower as she fell into a deeper sleep. His chest fluttered briefly and he cursed the absurdity of being plunged into such a state of liminality, still with the capacity to feel. He examined her features, now relaxed in sleep. She was rather pretty when her face wasn’t pulled into a scowl or a snarl; the light freckles scattered over her skin that he was sure were soft. Her dark lashes outlined against her cheek. The delicate point to her chin and the cascade of curls splayed over the pillow.

Slowly, he reached out his hand to cover hers. He hesitated a moment in case the change in temperature caused her to stir, he whispered. “Can I keep you?”

Though he knew he ought not to hope, he did so anyway.

[luxesiren]

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — h.haganezuka x black!femreader

(⛧) description: hotaru can stay concentrated for hours upon hours and not let up, he wants to show you that skill — drabble

(⛧) warnings: smut, oral (fem), pussy drunk!haganezuka, praise, fingering, overstimulation, teasing. mdni

(⛧) author’s note: when i tell you that seeing this man’s face on my screen had me (s)creaming like i need him today, tomorrow, in the past, the future, in the afterlife…ALLAT. i need him like air fr. also, @smiley-babe this is for youuuu😋

how could one person stay so focused and unwavering through every single task? it seemed difficult but it wasn’t difficult for hotaru, it never was and he made it look so easy.

his concentration never faltered with anything he did and you didn’t think it would travel to your bedroom but there you were, laying on the bed, legs spread and mouth open from the onslaught of noises that flowed freely. his hands gripped your thighs and his mouth latched onto your clit, drool spilling from the side of his mouth and his eyes lidded in pleasure — practically drunk off the taste of you.

your hands finding purchase in his long hair and pulling him closer as if he wasn’t close enough, maybe it was you being greedy and wanting more and he was willing to give it to you.

his tongue swirled, licked, sucked and curled throughout your cunt and your vision faded in and out and his name tumbling out of your mouth, “h-hotaru, fuck, please”

he never said anything while concentrating but his eyes met yours and another high pitched moan bounced off the walls of the room. his hand snaking around your waist and resting there as he continued to pleasure you until your legs started to tremble and your juices flowed into his mouth, cum spilling out the side of his mouth and slowly dripping down his chin. the sight was sinful and you wanted the picture framed and hung so everyone could see it.

he licked you clean, his tongue moving up and down making sure not to miss a drop — how could he waste something so delicious and mind-blowing? his tongue entering your cunt for the second time that night making sure to clean every nook and cranny of your walls. your moans basically whines from the overstimulation, too sensitive from the mind-numbing orgasm you just received.

“mm it’s too much, hotaru! p-please, ‘s too much.” he never listened to your pleas, to which he knew you never meant but instead he always had something else planned. his mouth left your cunt and met your lips, his tongue entering your mouth and you moaned at the taste of yourself settling down on your tastebuds.

while on the other hand, his fingers made their way inside of your tight cunt. wet and warm and pulling his fingers deeper inside and he’s obsessed with the way you feel. he swallows every soft moan and low whine you release just because he can, pulling back he looks at you with nothing but focused eyes and small smirk, “feels good? i bet it does, you always liked how good i can fuck you with my fingers. now, be a good girl and let me concentrate, yeah?”

the deep concentration that it hotaru haganezuka will never cease to amaze you.

© 𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 | do not steal, copy, or repost to other websites such as ao3 or wattpad

[circeyoru]

Now I need this... Pleaseeeeee... What would happen if the reader died at the hands of Adam saving Alastor...

And because of that the reader went to heaven and Alastor's soul was free... I need to know What would happen if our yandere would do in this situation, since he saw the reader die ( but doesn't know that she is in heaven and became an angel, because of her good deed )...

And what do you think the reader would do now if he were an angel? Would she try to contact Alastor? Because she is worried that something happened to him after she died ( Maybe deep down the reader knows that Alastor can be dramatic and psychotic and crazy )...

To those that have no idea what this is talking about, check out {Unwanted Soul}

Huh, so the Sir Pentious route now.

If you haven't read the ask about Reader's afterlife death, make sense why you'd ask for Alastor's reaction. But long story short, Alastor abandons the hotel, including Charlie and the others, to return to your home to guard it. He hallucinates that you are still alive and justifies things that he did to thin air.

Now because this is before you mutually returned Alastor's feelings, so Alastor's state was even worse because he had nothing to hold onto. No one to console him because the hotel members don't even know of your existence and that you were kind enough to send Alastor to the hotel to help. Alastor would have overturned the hotel if it wasn't Charlie's connection with Lucifer, he blames the hotel for taking you away. If Charlie never had that dream, she wouldn't advertise, you wouldn't see it, you wouldn't send him there, he wouldn't have to battle Adam, you wouldn't jump in, and you wouldn't d̷̘͍͈̼̚ị̶̼̄e̸̖̍͂. He sabotages the hotel too, removing Husk and Niffty from their roles in the hotel. Too bad both already took a liking to the members there and stayed. Alastor didn't use the contract thing, because it reminded him of you.

Unknown to Alastor, Lucifer once dropped in on your home, expecting you to welcome him. But he didn't expect Alastor to be there. He didn't make a fuss and watched. He's shocked to learn that Alastor was delusional and you were nowhere in sight, he reached for you in Hell. But you weren't anywhere. Gone. You realized you died and your connection with Alastor, hence solving why Alastor left the hotel too. He left Alastor alone in his sorrows.

On your side. You were turned into an angel. The wings were new and weird for you. When you heard there was another redeemed like you, you looked and saw Sir Pentious, like you, in a white and gold theme. You didn't like it. You didn't like the change. You didn't like Heaven. You didn't care you got redeem. When you don't like it, you don't. You looked for a way back down to Hell. You came to terms that you care for Alastor and now you two were separated? What kind of joke was that?

You forced your way to Hell. You being the first to be redeemed was the talk of all of Heaven. You saw the look on Sera's face, don't worry, you were leaving. Emily was congratulating you and welcoming you to a new home. You didn't want that. You did your worst. Replicating what Alastor would to a T. As easy as pie, you reverted to your demonic self, appearance and all, yet the wings and halo were still hovering over your head. You learned to keep them away, 3 forms, angel, demon, and mixed.

It didn't matter to you, you were heading back home.

During when you were looking for a way to leave, you wondered about Alastor. He's free now that you're in Heaven, no one to hold his soul. Will he be the chaotic and destructive demon he was before your time together? Did he miss you? You shook your head, thinking that Alastor would be happy that you were gone. You never got to say you liked his company.

When you arrive back in Hell, you were pleasantly pleased that there was no holy light or explosion to announce your arrival. So you went back to your home district. You saw the new hotel building and smiled, thinking Alastor's having fun since you spotted the radio tower that's definitely for him. You were, however, confused by the shield around your home's domain. You recognize it as Alastor's, it was the same one as the one used in the battle.

Reappearing in your bedroom, you found the place spotless and everything in its place like no time has passed. At the sound of a plate breaking, you turned around and saw Alastor standing in the doorway. You raised a brow and questioned what he's doing here.

"Darling." Alastor appeared in front of you in the blink of an eye, "You're... You can't..." Your eyes narrowed, you figured what happened with his reaction to you. He was in denial of your death and treated like you were alive. Now that the real deal was back, he's in disbelief. You raised your hands and cupped his face, your wings appearing to hover yourself over the floor as did your halo though it was dulled. Alastor cupped your hands, closing his eyes momentarily. The both of you enjoyed the silence. But Alastor suddenly pushed you onto the bed, your wings ruffling from the sudden action. You shouted at him, trying to get him off of you. He turned you around, having full view of your wings. "You have angel wings... You were redeemed?" "What else? Adam killed me but I went to Heaven instead of poof." You tried to get up but Alastor was still pushing you down. You told him to get off of you, only to cut off when you felt your wings being pulled harshly. "Alastor!" "You're staying. You're not leaving. I won't let you leave me again." Alastor muttered, ignoring your cries. "Never."

Yeah, your death and disappearance pushed Alastor off the edge. And because the soul contract was broken, you couldn't fight off Alastor while he's in that state. Normally, he wouldn't dare cause you pain or harm you in any way. But he's going to do anything to keep you close to him. Even when it's forceful. He doesn't need your affection, he just needs you. And he knows all that you like, so you would be fine with it later on. Give it some time.

[ann-ann-alan]

Angel Dust x Satan!M!Reader

------/////------/////------/////------/////------/////------/////------/////------

Word count: ~1.6K

TW: Talk about what Valentino has done to Angel Dust. Angel and Val's extremely toxic relationship.

--/////------/////------/////------/////------/////------/////------/////------/////--

Angel's eyes flapped open slowly as the light shined through the curtains of his room at the hotel. For once in his afterlife he felt well rested. He felt so safe and warm cuddling up to his new boyfriend. If only Valentino could be this nice. Valentino. Angel's mind began racing at the thought of his cruel boss, a man that had made him suffer so much, and he would have to go back to him today. Every day until the end of time, or until Angel died. Again.

"Stop thinking about Val." You said as you pat the top of your boyfriend's head. "He's not here. I am. You're safe with me, you know that right?" Angel felt your hands on his face, lightly caressing him, so soft, so caring. "Of course I trust you."

"Good" You kissed him deeply as you swiftly picked him up bridal style. He let out a little squeak at your actions. "Don't worry my little divine being, I won't drop you."

You suddenly turned into a smaller man. A man named Saturn. That's the fake name you had gone for as it was kind of close to your real one. No one could know you were Satan. What would happen if it was revealed that the most powerful of hells beings, second only to Lucifer himself, was staying at a hotel for redemption and was dating a sinner? Hell would be chaos, well, more than it already is anyway.

"I love Saturn and all, but I really wish I could see your real face more often." Angel presses a light kiss to your cheek. "I do too honey, I really wish I could be myself but you know what could happen if people found out about us. It could get real dangerous."

----------------->

You and Angel walked down the steps of the hotel towards the bar where Husk was cleaning glasses.

You and Angel sat on the stools at the bar. As he was rabbling on you couldn't stop yourself from staring at him. His pretty face, beautiful hair, big eyes, and that cute little chest fluff. He was perfect. If only you could truly be with him.

Your train of thought gets interrupted by Angel's phone going off. "Guess I got to get to work." He stared down at his phone sadly, defeated. "Bye Sweetums." He kisses your forehead and heads for the door.

"You really hate Val don't you?" Husk utters, wiping a shot glass down. "What makes you say that?" "Your claws are out and you're ruining my counter." You look down to see both your hands ripping into the counters wood. "Oh sorry. I just- I hate him." Your eyes glowed red. You wished you could rip the head off that disgusting moth. There's nothing wrong with lust (you are good friends with Asmodeus) as long as it's consensual. And Val was anything but.

"Why do you care so much? Angel's just a fling." Husk said starring at your enraged state. "What no! I- well- I- I love him ok?! And I can't keep seeing Val rip my boyfriend apart over and over again!" You love him. You just said it. Husk stared at you with a knowing smirk. "Look, I get you love him and you want to keep him safe but there ain't nothing you can do about a soul contract. He's stuck with Val. Forever." Husk frowned, of course he knew about deals with souls, he made one.

Suddenly an idea comes into your brain. "But what if the contract was broken?" Husk looked at you strangely. "There ain't no way to break a soul contract." "But what is they could be? Would that free him? Would he truly be safe?" You muttered more to yourself then Husk. "Well yeah? But like I said, there ain't no wa-" You put your hand over his mouth. "But what if I could do it? What if I could break the contract?"

"You can't."

"But what if I could?"

"You can't"

"But what if I could?"

"You ca- YOU CAN NOT! Soul contracts don't just break, they just don't. It's better to just give up now."

You could do it. I mean, you're LITERAL SATAN. YOU are the contractor. All soul contracts get run by you. That's your job. You remember when you first came across Angel's contract. You thought nothing of it, just another hopeless sinner who needed a job. Just another hopeless sinner you were now deeply in love with. You could do it. If Valentino willingly showed you Angel's contract, it was over. One touch and the contract would be gone, reduced to ashes and Angel would be free. But everyone would know who you really are. Only one person could break contracts, only one. Satan. Your reputation would be tarnished.

But you would do ANYTHING for the one you love.

----------------->

Angel was tired, he had already filmed three intense scenes and Val only wanted more, just like always.

"Alright my little Angel, you'll be filming one more scene and then you'll come to my office ok?"

Oh god not his office, never his office. Angel couldn't count the amount of unhappy memories he's had in that office. Angel wanted his boyfriend, his real boyfriend, not Val.

"Is there a problem Angel Dust?" Val sneered. "No, no, not at all Val, everything's fine." "Alright then, why wait? Let's go to my office now."

Panic hit Angel like a truck. "Wait now?! I thought I had another scene to film?!" Angel was almost hyperventilating. He couldn't go in there with Val, he couldn't. Not again.

"You said there was no problem. Let's GO!" Val roughly grabs Angels arm and yanks it towards him. "You better behave Ang, you wouldn't want to hurt my feelings would you?" Val looked at him with a disturbing smile. Angel looked into those bright red bug eyes, he was scared, really scared. Scared just like he was when Val made that deal with him.

"Excuse me." Val and Angel looked to the side and found you standing there. "Sata-Saturn what are you doing here?" Angel says. "You know this guy?" Val released Angels wrist and walked towards you. "I'm Val, well you definitely already know me so... Angel said your name was what, Saturn? That's quite a strange name for a sinner." Val held his hand out for you to shake, you just starred at it with your arms crossed. "Well, um, you must be here for a job right? Angel must of told you about me!" Val said as he retracted his hand. "I actually came here because I wanted to take my boyfriend back home."

"What in the hell are you doing?!" Angel whispered to you as he held your arm, almost trying to hide from Val. Valentino noticed this. "Your HIS boyfriend? MY Angels boyfriend? That's a funny joke." Val said almost as a threat, 'it better be a joke.'

"Oh it's no joke. And Angel isn't yours." You stood protectively in front of him. "Oh! But he is. He is MINE. FOREVER." Val says, starting to get angry.

"Baby, you should go..." Angel said from behind you, clutching the back of your shirt with all his hands.

"Yeah, you should listen to him Saturn." Val smirked down at you.

"Let me see it." You utter, holding your hand out in front of you.

"See what?" Val crosses his arms and sneers at you. Looking at you up and down. Judging.

"Let me see the contract that has Angel tied to you. One look at it and I'll leave you alone, forever. You have my word."

Val looks at you suspiciously. "Sure, whatever." He makes the contract apear right in front of you.

You reach out for it and pretend to read over it, but all you could really stare at was the signature at the bottom.

"Well?! Are you happy know? LEAVE!" Val says. He was getting angry. His little play thing had a boyfriend? Who was interrupting his job? What a little BRAT!

"Actually.... I was thinking something a little.... different." Suddenly the contract set ablaze in blue fire, the paper disintegrating.

"WHAT?!?" Val stepped back. HOW?! How was that possible?! How could you do tha- "You're not REALLY named Saturn are you?"

Val could barely get that sentence out before you pushed him to the ground. "You are a pest Valentino. And I'm not afraid to CRUSH you."

Your eyes turned beep red, you gained back your height, long red horns like a ram came out of your head.

"YOU stay AWAY from MY BOYFRIEND! If I EVER see you near him again, you will see the full strength of wrath, you disgusting bug!"

Val stares at you in fear, laying on his elbows, tying to crawl away from you.

"Whoa, whoa! Don't kill 'im baby!" Angel set his hand on your shoulder. Looking back at him all you could see was the man you loved. The FREE man you loved.

"Lets get out of here."

---------------->

"You sure that was a good idea? People know who you are now." Angel said, cuddling into your side as you both sat on the hill of the Hazbin Hotel, looking over the rest of hell.

"That's ok with me. You mean more to me than some stupid reputation I barely cared about in the first place." You pressed both your hands to the sides of his face. "No matter what happens I will always be there with you. Through Earth, Hell, Hay! Even heaven if Charlie's plan works out!" You plant a gentle kiss to his lips.

"I love you for eternity my darling."

"I love you too big guy."

[knoxic]

Eris Vanserra drabble

summary: smut, eris is obsessed, enemies to lovers

wc: 664, sorry

a/n: I have been writing small bits of the next part of How to be a High Lady but it's so been so hard, so I had to write a small easy thingy for Eris so I wouldn't stress myself out.

Eris' bloodshot eyes gazed at your nude form, admiring the sway of your hips and the soft bounce of your tits. Even with your head thrown back you could feel his eyes on you, making up for his tied hands. He couldn't touch you so he'd pay attention to the smallest detail, not wanting to miss anything if this turned out to be a one in a million opportunity.

"Please–" his voice was barely audible, probably from having restrained himself from moaning your name, "please." A mere whisper. You slowly shifted to look at him, your head rolling into your shoulder. The sight that greeted you was one you'd never forget. Eris' lips were red and swollen from the rough kissing session you had earlier, the corner of his bottom lip starting to bruise from a bite. His hair was a mess, a strange thing to see on him, his combed red locks now stood in every direction possible, shiny with sweat. His flushed chest adorned with multiple nail scratches, hickeys and bites. Eris looked absolutely ravishing.

"Please what, Eris?" Your voice was taken over by lust, coming out lower and rougher than you expected. Apparently that was enough to make him lose the last bit of control he still had.

You watched helplessly as Eris burned through his tie, freeing the hands that were on you barely a second later, the remaining fabric flew across the bed as he turned both of you to be on top.

"You know what I want." He watched you with heavy lidded eyes. "Tell me."

"No." You refused, even though every cell on your body screamed at you to just say it.

"Why?! Say you want me, and I'll be yours." The exasperation in his voice made your stomach drop. "It's easy. I want you, I burn for you," he rolled his hips, pushing a whimper out of your mouth, his cock twitched inside you at the sound, "I would let Prythian burn for you– no, I would burn it for you." The gentle rolls of his hips quickly became rough thrusts. His lustful eyes never left yours.

"Rhysand would kill me." You tried looking away from him, not bearing the weight of his feelings pouring down on you. Not when you so clearly felt something too. A warm hand found your jaw, holding you in place.

"If I promise to kill myself, would you give me– give us a chance in the afterlife?" Your heart beat faster at the way Eris showed no hesitation, no doubt in saying that.

"You're insane–"

"Yes! Yes I am, you turned me into a mad male." His thrusts faltered, showing he was close. "We can be so much better together. You and I, little fox, just you and I, imagine it." He rested his forehead against yours, eyes closing to focus on not losing himself before you, one of his hands slipped between your slippery bodies to rub gentle circles on your clit. "Say it, and nothing else will matter. I swear to be completely devoted to you, and only you, ask me anything and I'll do it, if you ask me the sun on a platter, I'll burn myself to death just to get a segment of it for you." Your brain formed the image of a small chunk of the sun on a platter, the vibrant gold taking over your vision, threads of it slipping to the ground and shining through the ceiling, one of them bigger, tying you and Eris together.

His heavy breathing fanned your face, the pull of the thread on his heart almost pushed him over the edge. The thread tied to your heart brought you closer to your complexion. Finding Eris' eyes did it for you, there seemed to be threards of gold in those russet irises too. He pulled at his end of the thread and you fell, harder than you ever had before, bringing your mate with you.

"I want you."

[whathebeep]

Okay so like the perma death of Tav and how it would affect the party-

Just cause my Tav died during the end boss and it got me thinking (SPOILERS FOR SURE) (definitely romance centric around poly Tav/Astarion/Halsin)

The party definitely doesn't fully comprehend it at first. Oh it's fine, Shadowheart has revivify- no? It won't work? Right okay we have the scrolls- oh. Okay well we can bring them back to Withers- what do you mean you can't?

That's it. That's the end, and Tav is dead and gone, cold to the touch.

Astarion is in shock. He doesn't believe it, won't believe it- he gets angry at Withers. Yells and screams until his voice his hoarse and angry hot tears are running down his face until he drops to his knees and sobs. Tav's body is on a bed or a stone slab, and he just kneels and cries next to Tav. Squeezes their hand, begs, pleads with them for you to come back. Don't take them, take me- let them live, let them stay, I can't do this without them. Halsin stays with him, by your side, the two comforting each other through their tears and the loss of their love. He cries until he's weak and tired and can't bring himself to move- Halsin feeds him and brings him to bed. He cries at the smell of you on his pillow; you were his sun and now you were gone.

Gale is quiet. Gale comforts the others, makes sure everyone else's needs are being met. He makes Tav's favourite meal that night for everyone at camp- probably something like a nice hearty stew with potatoes and beef. After he's sure everyone else is fed and has drank water/blood, he returns to his tent to eat alone. He closes his tent and quietly cries. He doesn't eat.

Wyll? Wyll carries Tav back to camp- perhaps with the help of Lae'zel. He feels how cold your skin is, and he does his best to hold it together. He sees how deep your wounds are, how blue your lips are. He's unsure if you died before you hit the water, or if you succumbed to your injuries before Halsin pulled you out- but he feels the weight in his chest. You were a hero. Baldur's Gate deserved the privilege to know your face, to hear your laughter. You would've been knighted, you would be a hero to the people. They couldn't of done it without you, and now you were gone. He knew it before they even reached Withers. Wyll didn't sleep that night, rather staying up and tending to the fire.

Shadowheart knew it too. When she tries to revivify Tav and there was nothing, she knew there was no hope. She lingered when the party started back to camp with your body. Shadowheart made her way back to the now empty house of grief and picks night orchids. She takes her time coming back. Camp is quiet when she returns. She feels the familiar wisps of sorrow grasping at the edge of her mind- she is reminded of Shar, and the urge to forget. She won't go back- both for herself and for you. She brings you the night orchids and leaves them in your hands.

Halsin pulled you from the water. He was the first to realize you hadn't surfaced and swam down for you. Minsc realized quickly too and helped him bring you back to shore. Upon the return to camp and the cold hard truth from Withers, he's hurting. His heart hurts. Halsin falls into old habits, hard. He comforts Astarion first and foremost, putting his needs second. He did this at the grove, too. He realizes this and finally breaks, crying as he holds Astarion, the two at your bedside. He lets them fall, he hugs Astarion close, he prays to Silvanus- not to bring you back- he of course knows you are gone. He prays to Silvanus to meet you someday again, be it in the afterlife or if your soul comes back to this plane as something else. When Astarion is too weak to move and needs to go to his bed, Halsin carries him back to his tent. He holds Astarion as Astarion feeds on him, before laying him down to sleep. He leaves, returning with wildflowers to weave into your hair, before returning to bed with Astarion.

Karlach rages. She's violent for hours on end- punching trees, her upgraded engine burning so hot that her tears sizzle if they fall on her skin. She spent 10 years in the hells, 10 goddamn years with absolutely no one- you were the first person to give her a chance. You were her friend. You stood up for her time and time again, you saved her from needing to go back- and now you're gone. She punches a tree and scratches at it and yells angry things in infernal. Her rage only simmers when Scratch and your owlbear cub come to her- she collapsed against the tree and holds them both, crying as her engine starts to cool.

Lae'zel is quiet. She helps Wyll carry you back- she might not be the best at reading emotions, at telling what is happening- but she's seen death before. She realized you were gone when Minsc and Halsin pulled you out. You were a hero- you saved her people, you saved her prince, you saved /her/. And now you were gone. She wonders if you felt as scared as she was, when the tadpole was the greatest threat to them back on the Nautiloid. She knows she didn't say it, but she considered you a true friend. She comes to you later in the night to lay your weapon in your hands. She notices the orchids, and leaves them within your hands as well before going to sit at the fire with Wyll. She's quiet.

Minsc? Minsc is optimistic. He's not stupid- he holds out hope you'll be fine, reassuring the others while they walk back to camp. Surely you were fine, Withers would make sure of it! But when Withers tells everyone the truth, Minsc isn't angry. He feels the sadness, Boo does too- they go to the shore and sit to stare at the water. Minsc has been around for awhile- he knows the finality of death. He, in a way, knows Tav will be okay. That you will return as a bird or a baby or maybe you won't, and you'll await them all in the final death- and he and Boo mourn you.

Jaheira is the one to arrange the coffin for Tav. She's familiar with the process- she's done it many times before for Harpers. She's gone all night getting an oak coffin for your burial, and returns with a few men in the early hours of the next morning. They move Tav into the coffin, careful not to disturb the weapon you held and the numerous flowers. Jaheira sheds tears for you- she brings you medicine, laying the plants in your casket around your head. Lilacs and lavender, cedar and sage cradle Tav's head in the coffin. She thanks you for the lives you saved, the ones you've avenged- for doing what you could.

When the funeral happens, the cathedral is full. When the dust settled and word of your deeds, of your battle, of your sacrifice spread across the city, hundreds come to mourn Tav. Tav the great, Tav the hero, Tav the brainslayer. Tav is knighted before the burial, and is buried in a cemetery in the upper city amongst other heroes of Baldur's Gate. Church bells ring, and taverns are filled with people drinking and singing in Tav's honour. Bards have somehow already come up with songs of Tav and the group- and truly, while the party will remain together, their hearts bleed for the leader they lost.